


A Not so Brief History of Moony and Padfoot

by idkataret



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: British English, Drunken Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Rating May Change, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Sirius Black Speaks French, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Welsh Remus Lupin, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkataret/pseuds/idkataret
Summary: Remus Lupin had never entred such a world, having been hidden away so long. Every single experience of his was new, including those with a certain Sirius Black but even the perfect prefect has secrets.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> Quick props to Sammi for encouraging me to do this (takk!!)

Nightmares plagued Remus ever since he was five. So young so innocent yet so impure as he slept silently in the mild July night. Owls echoed through the sunrise causing the young Lupin to stir. The boy brushed his hair back and checked the wooden clock hanging on the pale blue wall. Twenty-four minutes past six in the morning. He sat up and sighed; he never slept easy. However, his household was always awake early, with his father’s busy job at the ministry.

Remus pulled himself downstairs, following the scent of poaching eggs. On the gingham tablecloth lay a letter with _Remus John Lupin_ written in brilliant green ink. He never received post, why would he, being in his condition.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Lupin,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Remus was shocked. He pretended not to hear his parents worries about him being able to go away to Hogwarts, but he knew all too well that they were unsure that he would get accepted. That was when another letter addressed to _Mr Lyall Lupin_ written in the same green ink under his father’s copy of _The Daily Prophet_ caught his eye.

His Mother beamed at him as she placed a plate of crispy toast with a poached egg in front of her equally overjoyed son. Lyall entered the rustic kitchen and gave a relieved smile to his boy. His wife, Hope nodded to the letter tucked under his newspaper as she gave him his own serving of eggs and toast.

The family ate quietly. Their silence was broken by the sound of parchment ripping. Lyall Lupin was reading the green inked letter with furrowed brows. His face bean to relax and he turned to his son.

“They’ll help you at Hogwarts, he reassured, “with everything.”

“In a few weeks,” his mother smiled, “we will go to London and I’m sure your father will help you get everything on this magical shopping list.”

A pair of hopeful green eyes grinned back.

Remus had travelled a lot, village to village but never somewhere as grand and impressive as London. The metropolis was loud and bright, full of businessmen dressed in similar suits to his father minus the wand in the breast pocket, of course. Shyly, he stuck close to his father’s side. Young Remus was only use to quiet hamlets and was starting to find the bustling city and late-August heat overwhelming.

“D-dad,” he stuttered through his nerves.

“We’re not far away Remus,” Lyall comforted, “you’ll feel at ease soon.”

His father was right. Once they passed through the brick wall into Diagon Alley, Remus’ curiosity overrode his anxiety as he entered this new world. He was amazed as he passed all these new scents, scenes and sounds as he went stall to stall, collecting goods for his magical studies, closely guarded by his father. He walked up to a shop with two almost cylindrical windows and a black sign with gold lettering which glistened and said Ollivander’s 323BC.

The bell rang as they entered; popping up from behind a shelf stacked with wand boxes, an old man with chin length grey hair greeted them.

“First Year at Hogwarts?” the man peered over at Remus.

He nodded.

The man examined the boy standing in front of him. He hummed and went behind a shelf. Returning with three wand boxes, he urged Remus to step forward. Remus did so. The man opened a box, moving a piece of velvet aside and handed the wand to Remus. He felt something connect inside him as he held the piece of cypress wood in his hand.

“The unicorn hair likes you,” the old man chuckled, taking the wand back, “I hope you treat it well.”

Remus nodded, smiling. His father turned to the door. It was opened by a small boy, not much older than Remus, who gave Remus and the old man a toothy grin. Remus returned the smile and left the shop with a ring of the antique bell.

Remus hoped he would see that boy again and maybe make his first wizarding friend. Sadly, he did not really have friends and if Remus did, his neighbours would start getting suspicious about the monthly wails and screams and the Lupin household would have to move to the next village. It made Remus feel like such a burden. He knew he had to keep what happened secret. A werewolf at Hogwarts. Despite only being eleven, Remus knew the outrage that would come from news such as that reaching the wizarding community. His parents reassured him that the precautions were in place at Hogwarts and Dumbledore was willing to make provisions for Remus for the next seven years.


	2. two

Kings Cross was loud and busy even as the morning rush hour was dying down. Accompanied by his parents, Remus passed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He was reunited with the feeling from Diagon Alley as he hugged his family goodbye and found a seat in an empty compartment.

He kept himself entertained with his thoughts and the new sense of independence he had gained. This was the first time in his life that Remus had ever been away from any member of his family. This wizarding rite of passage left him with mixed emotions, yet he continued to stare out of the window as the sky faded from blue to pink to a dark violet. The stars appearance and the waxing crescent moon reminded him of the countryside he grew up in.

Eventually, the train rattled into a small stone station. Compartment and carriage doors clicked open and hordes of students in black robes spotted with green, yellow, red, and blue scarves poured out onto the platform.

A loud voice signalled for the first-year students to come towards him. As the last few scurried over, the owner of the voice, a gentle giant, grunted to show them in the direction of a lake. It was dark and ominous but so still as the night sky and looming castle were reflected in the deep calm waters. Remus climbed into a boat; joined by a ginger girl who linked arms with a girl wearing a soft black headscarf and a lanky boy with greasy black hair.

“Uh, hi, I’m Remus,” he stammered with slight nervous grin. Remus’ lack of previous friends made him rather shy and unsure what to do.

“I’m Lily Evans,” the ginger girl said looking at her surroundings with glistening eyes, “this is all so new to me.”

“Not so for me, my father works at the Ministry of Magic, but I think I understand you,” Remus replied.

“And your mother?” inquired Lily.

“She’s a muggle.”

“That’s the opposite way round for Sev,” Lily nodded to the boy with greasy hair who waved sheepishly.

"Both mine and Lily's parents are muggles," the girl linking arms with Lily added, "I'm Nadia by the way."

Remus nodded his head, "Wow."

They sat in comfortable silence as they travelled through the water staring in awe at the school’s grounds and the night sky. Boats creaked as they entered the candlelit boathouse. Remus stumbled to his feet onto the stone floor and followed the other students up a small staircase. They were greeted with a larger much grander staircase with a set of enormous double doors at the top. A slim woman in green robes stood at the stop of the stairs and signalled the students forward.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, “ she had a thick Glaswegian accent and cat like eyes that stared straight at Remus, “I’m Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. I’m aware many of you know but for those who don’t, there are at four houses at Hogwarts, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

Students of wizarding families perked up when they heard their families’ houses. Remus noticed Severus Snape, Lily Evans’ friend, look excited when Professor McGonagall said Slytherin. Remus did not know where he would be sorted. He never gave it much thought. He stared off into space as the huddle of first years walked through the doors to the Great Hall, not wanting to be aware of the many eyes staring at him and the others.

He did not pay too much attention the old Sorting Hat’s song. He noticed Lily's friends, Sev and Nadia, get sorted into Slytherin and Ravenclaw respectively but he was not focusing on the sorting ceremony until the name Sirius Black was called and he saw the boy from Ollivander’s. Remus knew of the Black family; it was strange to see a member of that clan look so young and hopeful. Sirius was looking at the Slytherin table. The hat shouted “Gryffindor!” and young Sirius was shocked but smiled as he skipped over to the table, giving Remus a grin as he passed. Sirius’ shock was all Remus could think about until…

“Remus Lupin,” McGonagall called.

Remus stepped forward. He was nervous. He did not like all the eyes staring at him. He sat on the stool and the old hat was placed on his head. This was it.

“Gryffindor!” a loud applause erupted from the Gryffindor table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading chapter two!! i can't thank you enough for being here!!  
> stay safe


	3. three

The start of term feast was the greatest meal Remus had ever eaten. He turned to Sirius who was talking to a boy with half frame glasses.

“Sirius, isn’t it?” Remus inquired stepping out of his comfort zone, “I saw you in Ollivander’s I think.”

“Yeah,” Sirius smiled with a subtle sadness behind his eyes, “this is James Pots- Po-“

“Potter,” the boy with the half frame glasses corrected, “James Potter,” he extended a hand.

Remus shook it, “Remus Lupin.”

“Does your dad work at the ministry?” Sirius queried. Remus was surprised that the Black family knew of his father. It hit him like a tonne of bricks. The Dark Arts and Greyback. Of course.

Remus’ father worked on a case against Greyback in the early sixties; that same case led to the werewolf attacking Remus in his sleep aged five. The scar on his neck remained to this very day.

Remus nodded, pulling up his collar to hide his neck.

As Sirius grabbed the last profiterole, the Gryffindor prefect called for all the first years to follow him. They shuffled up the changing staircases, past portraits depicting moments of wizarding history or simply indescribable events all the way to Gryffindor tower. The huddle stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady. She was smiling wearing a shocking pink dress and had grapes wound into her hair. She grinned down at all the first years and gave a beckoning smile to the acne prone prefect. Said prefect explained to them the how the portrait leads to the common room and dorms.

 _Mondragon_ and the portrait revealed a doorway to a room of brilliant scarlet, students sat in various red and gold clothing and school robes, at wooden writing desks and crimson couches. Groups were sat reflecting on their summer breaks, laughing, smiling, enjoying each other’s company. How Remus longed for that, but he only knew three other people in Gryffindor house, he would not call them friends just yet.

Remus opened the door to his dorm; he found his trunk by the leftmost bed, parallel to the wall that angled off from the door. Three other beds curved around the room: each four poster beds with burgundy velvet curtains. The other three trunks had the initials SB, JP, and PP, following the curve of the room. He recognised SB and JP probably belonging to Sirius and James but was not too sure of PP (but it tickled his eleven-year-old sense of humour).

James Potter entered the room, scrunching up his nose to push up his glasses. He smiled at Remus whilst he emptied his trunk of books and moving photos of him and his family in traditional Mizrahi dress, celebrating Hanukkah and Purim. Remus awed at James’ family. He had never got to be with that many people before today and had little to no relationship with the magical world.

Remus turned to his own trunk, pulling out a lunar calendar, looking nervously at the looming full moon. He decided not to let that worry him. Opening a small wooden cupboard to find some old chocolate frog cards, he put his own bars of chocolate and snacks in. He always craved chocolate when he was approaching a full moon. How he longed for something to take the sting out of it.

A chubby boy with mouse like features entered the dorm next and introduced himself as Peter Pettigrew; took the bed opposite Remus’. He too began to remove photos of family members and what could only be described as half of Honeyduke’s from his trunk. Remus continued to gaze at the people in Peter’s life and scratched the back of his head at the sight of the one photograph of him and his parents atop the wooden draws.

It was almost midnight and Remus was wide awake, lying in his bed staring at the wooden details on the bedposts. The door opened slowly, whoever pushing it was trying not to make a sound. A figure with long curly hair stepped through, sniffing as they walked to the bed next to Remus. Remus turned over to face the other bed, the boy from Ollivander’s was sat there, sobbing softly. His tie loose and top button undone; in the moonlight Remus saw his tear stained cheeks,

“Sirius.”

“ _Quoi_ ,” he quietly snapped back then realised he was speaking French to a scrawny Welsh boy, “you wouldn’t understand being such a disappointment to your family and then to end up in bloody Gryffindor, _putain._ ”

“I guess I don’t,” but he did. Oh, how Remus really knew how it felt to hide from the outside world, pretending not to notice his parents’ disappointment, that he was no longer a normal child. He knew exactly how to hide himself from those he cared about, “but,” he opened his cupboard and produced a bar of milk chocolate wrapped in purple foil, “have this, it might make you feel better.”

“Thanks,” Sirius mumbled, taking the bar from Remus’ hand, “don’t tell anyone,” he put a dark strand of hair behind his ear.

“I won’t,” Remus smiled, “I promise Sirius.”

“You’re a good friend Remus.”

And with that Remus turned over, tugging the quilt over his shoulders to keep himself warm from the autumnal Scottish winds. He slept soundly, not plagued by nightmares for once.

Transfiguration was the first years’ final class on Thursdays. Professor McGonagall, similarly to their other teachers, spent their first lesson together plainly explaining the foundations of her subject and giving a few examples to simply show off her skill with a smirk on her face. Remus was sat between Sirius and Severus Snape; he could feel the glares between the two boys while he swiftly took notes on the numerous uses of transfiguration. Remus concluded that he preferred his muggle mother’s fountain pens to the quills and inkwells Hogwarts offered; also, that he preferred to not be in the middle of an intense angry staring match between Sirius and Severus. McGonagall dismissed the class as the four o’clock sun cast the room in a subtle gold glow, “Mr Lupin.”

Remus spun on his heel.

“Please,” the Professor sat at her oak desk, “take a seat.”

He did so.

“Now, given your lycanthropic condition,” Minerva was careful with her words as she saw the increasing discomfort for the brunet before her, “we’ve created a passageway for you, lad,” she pointed out her window at a large tree with branches that moved at their own will, “if you use the freezing charm, _Immobulus,_ the branches will clear and you will be able to get to an abandoned shack on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.”

Remus smiled, “Thank you, Professor.”

“You know, Remus, you’ll be able to spend as long as you’ll need out of classes as long as you try make up the work,” she kindly yet sternly reminded, “now run along.”

He did just that, with a newfound sense of hope and comfort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a loooooong one sorry  
> stay safe everyone!!


	4. four

“Peter,” James sounded genuinely concerned at the rate Peter was shovelling down his breakfast that morning, “that’s too many pancakes for a healthy person.”

“Ach, but Sirius isn’t up yet,” Peter replied between mouthfuls, “and you know he’ll steal them!”

Remus snickered at the antics of his newfound friends, twirling his finger to mix the milk in with his morning tea. A slim hand with slightly bruised knuckles snatched a slice of jam toast form Remus’ plate, “Morning Sirius.”

Tucking his black curls behind his ears Sirius grinned, taking a bite of the toast, “ _Ah merci monsieur Lupin, bonne matinée.”_

Sirius was in a better mood than he was on the first night. He got angry at himself, his mother, his perfect little brother (who was a whole four hundred miles away in London), history of magic, and his latest outlet, Severus Snape. Sirius was always an outcast before Hogwarts; he did not follow his family’s doctrine of pureblood supremacy and worship of the Dark Arts. When news that this black swan had been sorted into Gryffindor, his mother was furious. Which only sparked the young star to be increasingly rebellious once he returned home for the Winter Holiday -James had insisted they call it that, given that he celebrated Hanukkah rather than Christmas-.

Sirius’ lack of conformity and rebellion against his parents was something Remus really admired about him. Each of his friends had a trait he admired. Peter was comfortable as he was and never felt the need to change, well, maybe his eating habits but never any part of his personality. James was incredibly unapologetic; unapologetically Jewish, Sirius Black’s favourite four eyed git, in love with Lily Evans, and honest about his hatred for Snape. However, Remus was not aware that his friends thought he was witty and collected but an awful liar (he always avoided eye contact and picked at his fingers when he lied).

The full moon was tonight. It loomed over Remus’ morning tea and now one slice of toast with jam. He felt sick and tired, yet he wished he could just get on with his day without an ever-increasing anxiety growing inside of him. It was his first Changing since he arrived at Hogwarts and, despite relishing the independence he now had, he longed to be back in his parents’ cottage. He struggled through each class, getting paler and shakier as the hours passed. Leaving the rest for Peter, Remus could not finish his lunch but still dragged himself to transfiguration. As much as Remus loved Professor McGonagall’s classes, he was not able to focus and was shaking so much he made Severus Snape’s usually incredibly neat handwriting more akin to his own.

“Mr Black,” McGonagall’s eyes softened as she spoke sternly, “please take Mr Lupin to the hospital wing.”

Sirius did not react, merely nodded and helped the shaking Remus out of his seat. Neither of them knew what was happening. Remus insisted he could walk without Sirius’ help, he made it about four meters and sat next to a stone suit of armour. Sirius sat beside him, producing a chocolate frog from his pocket. He set it in front of Remus; who’s shaking hand took it and slowly opened it. The frog leaped; Sirius caught it. Remus let out of weak giggle. Sirius smiled back. He pulled the sleeve of his burgundy school jumper over his hand. Treading gently, he wiped the beads of sweat and tears from Remus’ face.

“Come on Lupin, let’s hope you’re not loopy,” Sirius helped him up, smirking slightly at his play on words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> james potter isn't white in my headcanon


	5. five

Remus clung to the sides of the bed as he watched the sun set through the stained windows. Madame Pomfrey was sat at her desk about to light a candle when she looked at Remus. She smiled and eyes said that he will be okay. Remus stood up. Inhaled. Exhaled. Once again. He stepped out of the room.

The sky was a fiery red and the evening chill made Remus’ hands sting as they gripped his wand. He reached the willow tree which was swaying in the wind. Feeling his heartbeat in his ears, he cast Immobulus and slid under the tree’s roots. He walked in the dark, breathing heavily and fast. He longed for his mother’s words of comfort. He longed for Sirius’ silence from earlier. Yet, as he felt the monster stir, he knew he had to deal with this now and alone.

The wooden door to the old shack creaked as Remus gingerly opened it. The place was abandoned to say the least. With his childish curiosity, Remus walked over to an old out of tune piano. He brushed the dust off the moth bitten stool and set his black robe over it. His mother taught him how to play. The music of the muggle world was one of Remus’ favourite things. He remembered playing a swing melody as his parents danced around their small living room. Remus savoured those memories for nights like these. He so desperately needed to remember that people, all be it his parents, loved him even if he was a monster. His comforting nostalgia was overshadowed by his new anxiety; he had grown so close to many people in Gryffindor house. He was unable to conclude if he would be allowed in the common room or the dorm if his housemates saw what he was moments away from becoming.

Kicking off his shoes, he knew he would need something to cover himself after what was to come. Through the dust on the window, Remus saw the first slither of moonlight. He took a deep breath. His bones began to ache. His legs began to feel bruised and his hands stung. His pink fingernails growing into claws, he began to scratch at his back; the last bit of his sanity wishing for him to only cause harm to himself, not anyone else. He howled and screamed, flailing his arms around in a last push from his fight or flight. His eyes rolled back.

Remus awoke as the moon was dancing on the horizon. He pulled a white shirt, stained with saffron from potions class, over his shoulders, wincing as the cotton stroked the gashes on his back. He could not feel his legs as he tugged on a pair of old plaid pyjama bottoms. Lastly and slowly, he pulled on his robe, growling as the movement hurt his scratched arms. He slipped on his loafers and struggled back through the passageway to the castle. Unnoticed, he stumbled back into the castle.

Remus was drowsy, could hardly see more than a few metres in front of him. Yet, awake at the crack of dawn was a lanky figure in a green Slytherin jumper. Remus kept his head down. He hoped Severus would not notice him shuffle by. Alas, he did, “Why are you up so early Lupin?”

“Felt sick,” Remus struggled and spat out a clot of blood, presumably from an earlier nosebleed.

“Of course,” Severus Snape sneered. He was smug. Finally, the saint Lupin could get in trouble just like all his pesky friends, “looking rather tatty for someone who spends his time with Black and Potter, or do they take pity on you?”

That was the final straw. Remus was no longer in the mood to be civil with Snape and with a last stretch for energy, he growled “Piss off Snivellus,” and stormed to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey awaited with painkillers and hot chocolate.

Finally, at ease, Remus got some well-deserved rest.

Unsure of what day it was, lifting his heavy eyelids, Remus looked up expecting to see the stone ceiling of the hospital wing. However, there stood an anxious Sirius Black, fiddling with his dark locks, attempting to calm his panic.

All Sirius could think was, _Putain, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?_ Remus was a kind soul, he laughed, smiled and swore like a sailor in the dorm at night, yet Sirius had never seen him so hurt, covered in thin white scars and violet bruises. He kept his eyes focused on the deep gash on Remus’ hand, despite Madame Pomfrey’s hard work, looked so painful. Sirius shuddered.

Through fluttering heavy eyelashes, Remus looked up at the worrying French boy, “Bore da.” Remus always spoke Welsh when he felt as old and tired as the hills and valleys he called home; or as fierce as the winds that used to blow his hair in his eyes. 

“Is that Welsh?” Sirius asked still not realising that Remus had woken. He fiddled with his fingers, picking at the skin around his nails, eyes darting around the stone slabs beneath his scuffed patent shoes.

“Uh, yeah,” Remus replied, “in muggle school in Wales-“ he lied about how he had to learn Welsh in primary school. He was not completely lying. He went to a muggle primary school for when he was four and left at five, leaving his mother to home-school him for the next six years. Until Albus Dumbledore showed up on their doorstep and reassured Remus he could go to Hogwarts (much to Hope Lupin and her eight O-Levels’ relief). “- and my mum swears in Welsh so I know-“

“Oh, shit,” sleep deprived Sirius’ eyes widened in realisation Remus was awake, “ are you -fuck- ah _merde_ Jesus.”

“I’ll be alright Sirius,” Remus’ lip twitched to a half smile.

“You look like absolute shit,” panic overwhelmed Sirius, “ w-what happened, _putain. Je jure devant Dieu_ -“ he began to rant in French; eventually, getting completely off topic in the most Sirius fashion.

Remus had no choice but to lie and it broke him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for my bad french


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i wanted to write a hanukkah scene what about it  
> also !! potential tw  
> talk of scars  
> stay safe yall <3

Remus poorly made his excuses every full moon, yet somehow his friends grew to accept it. They brushed it off as Remus is in one of his moods. The harsh winds of autumn had calmed to soft highland snow. Remus ensured he never had another episode like his first changing at Hogwarts. He always silently breezed through the corridors, down to the shack and let the storm loose. His thunder calmed as he tugged himself back to the hospital wing and reappeared in class a few days later with sunny smiles and a sad defence.

“Mother was ill,”; “Uncle in St Mungo’s” “Fell down the stairs as they moved,” “Messed up a potion in Slughorn’s study group,” to name a few.

However, that did not stop Severus Snape giving him grief. Snape insisted he could use that interaction maliciously, yet, every time he did it was to no avail. Sirius and James would pull their antics (hexes, stealing his belongings, tripping him up, throwing things at him etc.) ; Slughorn brushed it off saying, “I doubt that Mr Lupin would act in such a way,” and Professor McGonagall insisted that Severus should not make unnecessary rumours based on his dislike of James Potter and co.

The ever-growing rivalry between Severus Snape and James, Remus, Sirius and Peter lasted right up until the end of that term. Hogwarts was decorated for the holiday season and James was beyond excited seeing an ornate menorah atop a large table in the Gryffindor common room, alongside Kwanza and Christmas decorations.

As Peter once again got a pancake stolen from him, a tawny owl flew into the hall with a squawk, dropping a small parcel in front of James. His eyes brightened and other students nearby peered to see what James Potter had received. There was a small wooden dreidel and several packets of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. While his friends remained bewildered by the existence of the Hebrew alphabet, James’ eyes grinned as he poorly explained how to play with the dreidel.

In the dorm that night, with a small menorah providing a warm glow. The boys were sat closely on the floor playing with the small dreidel and jellybean _gelt_ ; Remus was mere inches away from touching shoulders with Sirius. In that warm light he could make out features on Sirius he had somehow never seen. Marks, as Sirius’ night shirt sleeve fell as his arm stretched to spin. Shin, _Shtel_ , Sirius had to add a bean to the bowl. The twelve-year-old leaned forward to place the _gelt_ , the hem of his shirt revealed more marks on his back, leaving a curious Remus confused.

It was his turn to spin. Remus rolled up his sleeves, in the aims of getting the bloody best spin (he wanted _Gimel_ to get all the jellybeans, if not _Hey_ so he would get at least half the bowl of beans). He held the small wood spinner in his fingers leant forward and spun. The dreidel went round and round and landed on _Nun_ , _Nisht_ , nothing. When Remus sat back, anything but nothing was on Sirius’ face.

Sirius stared at Remus, tilting his head and brows curving, eyes pricking with tears as he remembered the day in the hospital, seeing Remus so hurt, and, maybe even worse, he remembered being at home. Sirius’ homelife was not perfect. He was always a rebellious child, he did not eat his vegetables, do his sums, or, unlike most children, follow his parents’ political beliefs. He could not understand how some people were better than others; he only wanted to love, and he got punished for it. He was tormented with curses and dark magic. He looked down at Remus’ arms, scar covered from previous full moons’ changings. Remus met his eyes. A similar sorrow swirled around them as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Si, your turn again,” Peter, who had just lost his final jellybean, glumly passed Sirius the dreidel.

And Remus and Sirius broke eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait in update given the whole corona situ ive had to sit shiva (google is your friend) and haven't had time to write.  
> ill try be more consistent in updates but who knows


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, maybe a tw!!

Sirius and Remus tried to talk to each other as the weeks went on but, alas, something distracted them, be it schoolwork, James’ latest prank or exam preparation. Exam season had soon rolled around and the early may sunshine warmed Hogwarts’ corridors. The end of year examinations were stress riddled and the cause of many sleepless nights, profanity directed at history of magic and, in Remus Lupin’s case, lead to him creating messy copies of Sirius’ notes and then correcting them.

May 10th was the worst of all. History of Magic, Transfiguration Theory as well as Magical Art Theory all in one day, not to mention, it was also a full moon. Remus craved a sense of calm, something to quiet down his head. It was loud up there. Facts of Transfiguration Techniques were whizzing past the entire history of magical art movements, closely followed by the need to create another excuse for tonight. Remus was so focused on his thoughts he almost walked into a group of intimidating Slytherin Sixth Years. He was more worried about tonight and what could happen, then the Slytherins.

He did not remember the events of the night. 

But Sirius did. He saw Remus sneak away after dinner. It did not bother him until Remus did not return. It was about eight o’clock and the fierce sunset cast a red glow over the castle grounds. Sirius stared out of the dorm window, the heavy velvet stroking his cheek, comforting him almost. He saw figures moving across the fields, to the owlery, for an evening walk, or to see the game keeper.

Sirius began to slowly disassociate, staring at the darkening sky, his mind elsewhere. Remus had not returned, and it was almost ten. Sirius worried when it was dark because, at night, was when home was the worst. He thoughts raced to the worst conclusions.

Sirius once saw the state of his father when he came home during the wee hours, blood and curse stained, vengeance in his eyes. Then his parents would fight. It always stared with raised voices, and ended with a full duel, scaring Sirius and his little brother. Sirius would comfort poor Regulus, willingly going out into the _shitshow_ too get a glass of water and getting punished for interrupting. He shuddered. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself Sirius_ he thought _it is not that bad, you saw Remus’ arms in December, poor kid has got it worse._

It was nearing three in the morning. Sirius felt nauseous. He glanced over at Remus’ empty bed, sighing shakily. His pulse heightened, sweating more, eyes dashing around the room. Head spinning, he stood up and struggled to the dorm door. The common room was lit by a single candle, belonging to a sleeping Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon. They did not wake as he stumbled past, breathing heavy.

He clambered towards the hospital wing, memories of comforting a crying Regulus flooding his mind. He shook them off, under the pretence of a brave Gryffindor. Twisting and turning, his guts ached, and Sirius made his way to the hospital wing, in the hopes of getting some calming draught. However, calming draught would not soothe his nerves after what he saw next.

Remus was lying on a bed, hyperventilating, covered in deep scratches and bruises. The gasps and howls that escaped as Madame Pomfrey slowly cleaned his wounds pricked Sirius ears painfully. All he could remember was September, sitting next to his scarred sleeping friend, wanting to hold him close, and wanting to share with him, everything. He wanted nothing more than to hold him close, cry with him. Ask who hurt him.

Madame Pomfrey summoned a glass filled with calming draught and pointed to a bed opposite. Sirius stumbled over and took the glass in his shaking hands. His eyelids heavy, he slowly fell asleep on the camp bed beneath him a faint, “Sirius?” brushed over his ears.

The midday sun snook past the clouds into the hospital wing. Sirius stirred, waking feeling, for once, well rested. He bolted upright, recalling where he was. His dark bagged eyes dashed around the stone walls, searching. For Remus. Finally landing on Remus’ bed, Sirius’ eyes met a par of weak green eyes.

“Bloody hell, Sirius,” the corners of Remus’ mouth turned, “you look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sirius retorted, wondering how his friend could be cracking jokes when he was so hurt, “ _Putain, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?“_

“You know I don’t speak French,” Remus laughed weakly, “I’m used to this shit, don’t worry about me please,-“

“- but I’m your friend,” interjected Sirius, “I legally have to worry about you, like how I legally have to worry about Regulus.”

“I don’t think there are laws on friendship,” Remus adjusted his position, twinging in pain, “but who’s Regulus?”

Sirius sighed, smiling nostalgically, looking down at his hands, “My younger brother,” his look returned to Remus, “I’m so protective of him.”

“I can see why.”

Sirius’ expression changed. Remus knew. Of course, he knew. Salty tears pricked Sirius’ eyes.

“What did they do, Si? It clearly was bad, hell, bad doesn’t describe it,” Remus’ bright green eyes were dulled with his own tears.

Sirius inhaled shakily, “It was j-just a slap, t-then ah-I m-messed up,” he put air quotes over ‘messed up’, “it got w-worse,” he was sobbing now, “ then o-one day-y they used, they, they used, cru-“

“- You don’t have to say anything,” Remus reassured, “come here,” he opened his arms out to Sirius.

He held the older boy. They sat in a comfortable silence. Sirius broke it, “He’s coming here next year.”

Remus smiled softly.

“I am sure James will mother hen him as much as us.”

Smiles grew on their tear, blood and scratch stained cheeks.

If one thing was for certain Remus loved his friends, saying goodbye to them for only six weeks was difficult enough. Hugging at Kings Cross, they all promised to write to each other. Remus reassured Sirius that he could stay a week in Wales if needed. It was sure as hell going to be a long summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for my bad french, (my francophone mother reminds me too often)


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for bad french, and english at this rate

That Wednesday morning the wind was bitter, an appropriate welcome to Walburga Black and her two sons entering Kings Cross. The witch muttered something about _Les Moldus_ and her distaste of them. The muggles that passed the eccentrically dressed trio, assumed they were tourists from France, not helped by the snaps the pinched woman made at her sons.

Regulus Black was a lot like his brother, lanky, gaunt, dark hair that curled at the ends. However, his eyes resembled his mother’s, dark, piercing, ever judging the outside world. Regulus had never been to muggle London, despite living Islington, in the middle of it. He silently awed at the architecture, wondering how, without a drop of magic, the muggles made St Pancras so ornate.

He was scared. Now, Regulus was normally scared, but not like this, he was scared he would be sorted into Gryffindor like his brother and receive a Howler. Even if he ended up in Gryffindor, he was aware he was his mother’s favourite, even Sirius knew. He nervously fiddled with the hem on his emerald robe.

Like many others, Regulus was in awe as he stepped through the barrier, seeing the scarlet locomotive, and boarding it for the first time. Much to his mother’s dismay, he clung to Sirius, nervous. The Black brothers made their way to Compartment F, where Remus, Peter and James had all arranged to meet. For the first time, in years, Regulus saw how happy his brother was, surrounded by friends, all wearing some article emphasising their Gryffindor pride. Regulus remained at the door, unsure whether to sit with the Gryffindor gaggle or move on.

His choice was made for him as Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon walked past, waving at the boys, unintentionally pushing Regulus into the sixth seat; he looked down at his hands. James was the first to speak, “She changed her hair, she has a fringe, Lily Evans has a fringe and she did not make a fuss about it, wow,”

“What about McKinnon,” added Peter blushing slightly, “I mean, she has purple hair now, if I could I’d, well, ach, she’s too cool for me.”

“I also happen to think McKinnon is a lesbian,” Regulus added, not daring to look up.

The compartment erupted with laughter, “Why, Sirius, who is this fine green robed gentleman,” Remus asked between fits of giggles-

Sirius nudged his younger brother’s arm, “Regulus Black, I’m Sirius’ brother,” he smiled weakly, looking up at the other boys. They saw his and Sirius’ similar features, welcoming him with warm smiles and an offer to play Gobstones at some point.

The train rolled into Hogsmeade station; it was dark. Regulus felt the same awe and excitement that Remus did a year before. He looked down at his dark robes, they were neutral, they could go down any path they chose, the one sought after by his family; his own or like his brother’s.

Sirius sat beside Remus at the Start of Term Feast, his robes were neat, his hair longer but seemingly brushed, and he carried a worried look on his face. Remus too was neater than usual but caught onto Sirius’ anxiety, “Sirius, if he is your so called perfect brother, things will be okay and I am pretty sure James will take him under his wing in some manner,” he glanced at James, he had changed his glasses over the summer, they were still half frame but clear and gold wired and the only one to notice was Lily Evans, who, as previously established, cut a fringe.

James was frantically trying to neaten his tie under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall when he caught Remus’ words, “Oy Vey, it is rather bold of you to assume I have not planned out Regulus' every waking moment at Hogwarts, like I have with you three and Evans,” he laughed

“Is that something you people can do, I mean, I, oh shite,” Frank Longbottom, a blonde third Gryffindor third year asked, overhearing the conversation, not intentionally realising how antisemitic it was until it left his mouth.

“Yes, and us Jews run bloody Gringotts,” James laughed forcefully, brushing it off, “But listen-“

He was cut off by the sound of the doors opening and Professor McGonagall leading a group of First Years through the hall. Sirius and Remus strained looking for Regulus and Sirius caught his brother’s dark, worried eyes. He saw himself in them and he was restless until those eyes made their way to the sorting hat’s stool and were put in-

“Putain, Slytherin,” Sirius screeched in the dorm that evening, “I bet he won’t get a bloody Howler, I mean, of course he’s mother’s favourite but I still have to wipe his tears when he can’t sleep at night,” he was growing angry.

“Sirius,” Remus made an attempt to calm him down. It was to no avail.

“TAIS TOI REMUS,” he pronounced Remus in his French accent. He was distraught, “You have no siblings, like hell you’d understand _cette merde_.”

That struck a nerve, “Oh of course I don’t,” he angrily pushed up his sleeves, his arms marked with the summers’ full moon, hardly healed, “but I go to hell and back every four weeks so don’t say I’ve had better.”

Neither of them noticed James enter the room, their argument bubbling to a boil. Both their hands ghosted their wands but it was the unnoticed James Potter who was the first to draw, sending a small flurry of white sparks with a bang, “Guys, chill, I don’t want to know who’s got it worse but I think it is safe to say from whatever little knowledge I have of you two’s homelives, it’s pretty fucked, so calm down and go to bed, we have Slughorn first thing and I will kill myself if he sits me near Snape.”

Neither boy had seen James react like he had to this evening, first Longbottom, now this. Both silently grew to the conclusion of Evans. The three of them sat in silence until Peter walked in unaware of the overhanging remarks, “Chocolate Frog?”

James leant back, looked up a smile growing on his face, “Sure Pete,” yet, Remus and Sirius dared not look each other in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya girl is trying to write but damn its hard, and i seem to only be motivated during the wee hours


	9. nine

The next few weeks Remus and Sirius did not speak, not wanting to apologise, despite knowing they should but neither could swallow that twelve-year-old pride. However, Saturday’s full moon caught up with Remus before he knew it. He dragged his secret through breakfast, through the time he spent sitting in the dorm reading. Full moons were the worst on weekends, no classes to distract him from what was to come, a lycanthropic nightmare.

Remus stood at the base of the Whomping Willow, feeling the wind’s chill on his fingertips. His hands reddening as the breeze bit. He felt at ease, for a bit, watching the sun sit on the horizon. The sunset always reminded him of some long-wanted bliss. He sighed, knowing what was to come. He slipped under the roots.

Sirius, despite trying his best to ignore Remus, in pretence of still being angry with him, noticed Remus slip away after dinner once again. He pretended not to care, like he pretended not to care that his brother was always the favourite; that he would still do anything for his brother; how he had a weak spot for Remus. Something about Remus made him want to look after him, and share some of his hurt with him. Sirius just felt that the Welsh roommate would understand, as he watched the sun sit on the horizon, calm washing over him.

Sirius tried to focus on falling asleep but, once again Remus had not returned. He grew restless, glancing over at Remus’ bed in the hopes he would, in fact, be there under all those blankets. He walked over. Sirius stroked the velvet curtains surrounding Remus’ bed. He eyed Remus’ bedside table and trunk. He moved a brown striped jumper from the blankets as he sat down. He looked at the framed pictures on the small wooden table. One on coloured muggle film of him and what he assumed was his father, and another, in black and white, moving magical film, of him and probably his mother, hugging and smiling, the final one was taken last year of the Gryffindor first years, all grinning and giggling. Sirius felt tears prick his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Remus’ calendar, it had every full moon marked on it, alongside tests and birthdays. His eyes fell on today _, Ah merde._

“Sirius, are you up?” James’ voice was deep. He rubbed his eyes and pulled on his glasses to look at his anxious friend.

“Can’t sleep, Remi isn’t here, I’m worried and-“

“- it reminds you of home, I see it, Sirius, come here,” he held his friend in a short but tight embrace, to calm him down.

“I never asked last year,” wanting to deter from the topic of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, “what are you celebrating in your pictures,” Sirius looked at James framed photos of his family dressed up, him and his parents dressed in eastern style robes, “I hate talking about home so much I forget that people have stories to share.”

James smiled groggily, “The one where we are all in costumes,” he pointed at a picture of him dressed in bright red robes with a curly fake moustache and silly pointed hat, “that’s Purim, we dress in costumes like Halloween and eat cookies and listen to a story from the Book of Esther.” James continued and Sirius listened eagerly to every story, yearning for a family like James’.

“I wish my family was like yours,” Sirius said finally.

“Jewish?”

“No, all close and loving, I know you have your problems but,-“

“It’s like an actual family,” James did not want to look at Sirius in that moment. Feeling guilty.

“ _Je, Je deste_ -, I, I hate talking about it,” Sirius slowly pulled himself together, “ but one night, I helped up some muggle kid who fell over and Walburga, _ma maman_ , if you can even call her that, got angry and _elle_ , she used cruciatus.” He broke down in thick sobs, keeling over.

James hugged his friend again, “Come on let’s steal some of Remus’ chocolate.”

As they shuffled over to Remus’ not-so-secret chocolate stash they heard a loud howl. It was like that of a werewolf. It echoed through the dorm and the castle, waking up Peter. Who half-asleep noticed Remus was missing. They put two and two together.

“ _Putain sa mere_ ,” Sirius’ eyes widened.

James’ eyes had caught the full moon scrawled on Remus’ calendar under that night’s date, “Do you-“

“Oui,” Sirius was too shocked to speak English.

“But I go to hell and back every four weeks so don’t say I’ve had better,” Peter repeated Remus’ words from a few weeks ago, “That is what he said, so he did, right?”

Sirius and James nodded.

Remus looked down. This was bad, all previous Changings considered. He was angry, that made the wolf worse, much more violent and louder than usual. He sighed, the cold September breeze biting at his bare limbs. Staying at the shack was not an option, he would die, that was tempting. His fresh wounds burned and stung as they reacted with the air around them. Moving was painful but he dragged his sore body towards the hospital wing. Each step smarted. Every movement felt like fire burning through his limbs. Only a few more, only a few more. He had to get there, or he would die or be found out. In that moment he was not sure which would be worse. James taught him to count to ten in Yiddish. _Eyns,_ a step. _Tsvey_ , another step. _Dray, fir, finf_. He could see the castle now. _Zeks_ , _zibn_. He nearly tripped on a rock. _Akht, Nayn_. He was almost at the courtyard. _Tsen_. He just had to get to the hospital wing now. He counted every few steps and collapsed at the door with a thud.

The boys woke at sunrise. Peter before Sirius and lastly James. The wind blew through the window’s seal. It was silent and cold. James tugged on a jumper and his glasses. He summoned a jug of water and washed his hands. Sirius pulled the nearest two socks onto his cold toes; they did not match. Peter took a puff of his inhaler. James pulled a thick large cloak from his trunk. It glimmered in the moonlight. Sirius looked at it, then at James, who nodded. Peter joined them and they threw the cloak over themselves.

They snuck past the sleeping sixth years in the common room, out the portrait hole, down stairways and corridors, to the east wing, across the courtyard. Eventually, arriving at the hospital wing. With a whisper from Sirius of _Alohomora_ , they crept into the ward, where, lying on a camp bed, fast asleep with jittered breaths, was Remus Lupin.

“He looks so hurt.”

Remus heard the voices surrounding him. He was slowly waking up, feeling heavier than any time before. He wondered how much time had passed

“That’s an understatement Pete.”

Remus recognised James’ accent within a second. James and Peter were there. With him. In that hospital. He kept his eyes shut, wanting to hide. His friends could not find out. Every anxious thought that crossed his mind since he was four years spilled out, flooding all his senses.

“I bet he feels worse.”

Sirius’ voice calmed him. He was right. Without a second thought he opened his eyes slowly, “I just feel moony,” Remus’ voice was raspy. He was still half asleep.

“That’s our Remus,” Sirius laughed. Remus noticed a tint of anxiety in his voice. That same tint of anxiety from the last time he and Sirius were in this wing of the castle.

“Our Moony,” James smiled at him as he finally opened his eyes. He sat up limbs twinging, grinning up at his friends but then, his smile faltered. James’ expression changed, “I guess you just figured out, we know your secret.”

 _We know your secret_ made Remus’ heartbeat faster, his breaths more rapid and, tears prick his eyes. He never thought that this would happen so soon. He knew how James and Sirius felt about Severus Snape, and his greasy hair, old robes, second and third hand clothes. Would they feel the same about him? Would they leave him? He slowly pushed himself up, aching as he did.

“Please don’t,” he begged.

“Why would we Moony,” Sirius smirked.

“Moony,” Remus croaked.

“Moony,” Peter, Sirius and James replied.


	10. ten

Many werewolf related puns followed Remus the next few days, out of the hospital, from class to class, to the library. With a loud thud, James threw a large book onto the library table, earning a glare from Madame Pince. Remus looked over the title. It was not in any English or Runic script. James summoned a roll of parchment and a fountain pen (gifted from Remus for the third night of Hanukkah last year, he had been extremely excited). He scribbled, as though he had read their minds, _its Hebrew, it is a book about animagi._

“Animagi?” Peter whispered sharply, receiving yet another angry look from Madame Pince.

James, who was fascinated with Transfiguration, began eagerly translating the Hebrew into simple English that “even a troll would understand, don’t worry Peter,” well, maybe not. His handwriting was cursive, with long loopy ascenders and descenders. As James wrote, Remus and Sirius added notes in their respective spidery and sloppy scripts. _This is so advanced_ , Remus wrote, _why do it?_

James gave Remus a look, “You wouldn’t hurt any animal while you’re all, you know.”

“Moony,” Remus said flatly.

“Yeah, so if we learn to do this, we can be with you.”

Remus was stunned; no one had ever thought of joining him. He was usually left alone in the basement, or the shack, with nothing more than spare robes and One-Spell-Cook meals. All alone. Nobody to comfort him. He felt himself begin to cry. The other boys looked so concerned. Had they offended him? They had not.

“It’ll take so long to do, and if you screw up, yikes,” Remus sniffed.

“So, we’ll learn,” Sirius grinned.

They studied and studied until well past the start of dinner. For once in a long time, Remus had a spring in his step and smiled around his friends as they ran down staircase after staircase, in the hopes of there being some food left.

“I’d rather you not come with me,” Remus said that evening in the dorm, “getting past the willow would be difficult enough.”

“The willow?” questioned Peter.

“Yes, you know the haunted Shrieking Shack,” the boys nodded, “it’s not haunted, it’s just me.”

“So, if I am right,” James asked, “we could wait by the tree for you at dawn.”

“It’s not safe, you’d be seen, and I’m a werewolf so I have no idea if I’d kill you,” Remus huffed and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Ach, don’t kill me first,” Peter laughed.

“I feel like dear old Jamie would be the first of us to die,” Sirius guffawed, “while trying to make sure someone else doesn’t.”

James pouted, “I hate how that is so on brand for me, I bet it will be protecting the love of my life, or Sirius.”

“Love of my life, who put five knuts in this eedjit,” Peter jeered, “we all know it’s Evans.”

James’ dark cheeks reddened, matching the curtains surrounding the boys’ beds. The dorm erupted with laughter. Remus opened his cupboard. It was empty. He glanced at Sirius, who gave him a guilty look. He smiled at his friends and closed his bed’s curtains

A stack of pancakes sat on Peter’s plate once again at breakfast. October gloom hung over the castle that morning and for good reason. A large number of well-kept owls flew about the Slytherin table, dropping silver envelopes. Many of the NEWT students Snape stalked received one but not him, even Regulus received one. His grey eyes met with those of his brother on the other side of the hall. Regulus stood up, flattening his hair out of nervousness. He walked over to Sirius and handed him the letter.

“ _Sont-ils s_ _ériuex_?” Sirius was shocked at the shimmering paper in his hand, as far as he was concerned his family disowned him for being in Gryffindor.

“ _Non, tu es Sirius_ ,” Regulus smirked, earning himself a chuckle from his brother.

Sirius looked at the letter in his hand; it was an invitation. Sitting opposite him, Remus gave his friend a questioning look. Sirius began to translate:

_Mr and Mrs Cygnus Black III request the presence of Mr Regulus Arcturus and Mr Sirius Orion Black at the union of matrimony of our daughter Miss Bellatrix Black to Mr Rodolphus Lestrange._

_The Lestrange Mansion_

_Saturday 27 th January 1973_

_At 10 o’clock_

_And at the reception afterwards at Cygnus Black’s country residence._

_We await you owl by no longer than the 22 nd October_

_Toujours pur (- more like toujours puant, he added snarkily)_

“I’ve heard of her,” Remus said.

The Black brothers gave him a quizzical look.

“I overheard my parents talking over the summer, about a war, about Vol- You-Know-Who, and her name came up. She’s new in his following.”

Regulus gave Sirius a nervous look. Neither of them enjoyed being made aware of Lord Voldemort. War was on the horizon. They knew their father went to his meetings. They heard all the rumours. All the talk of wars. They knew He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named was creating an army against the Ministry, to continue the work of the defeated Grindelwald. They knew. Regulus mentioned a group of Slytherins would meet in the Room of Requirement, all Death Eater wannabes. He added that Snape would tag along sometimes, this caught Lily’s attention. She looked nervously at the boys. It was not often Lily let her emotions slip. Remus gave her a reassuring smile.

Remus glanced over at the Slytherin table. Some were reading their own invitations; others were leaning over, curious as to what the invitations were, and some were staring right at Sirius. Why would Sirius Black, a Gryffindor no less, receive an invitation? This had crossed Snape’s mind. However, he knew, despite befriending the Death Eater, he would never be allowed at that wedding with his _blood traitor_ mother. He glared in Sirius’ direction, jealousy boiling in his blood.

“ _Nous_ _devons_ _aller_ ,” Sirius sighed at the thought of having no choice but to go to the wedding. He would rather be in History of Magic classes for three days than spend a day with his family. He hated the lot. He remembered his cousins, including the bride to be, gossiping in the parlour, while his mother cursed _Curcio_ after _Curcio_ , at her Gryffindor disgrace in the dining room. He remembered his little brother’s sobs and worries only a few weeks ago.

“ _Je_ _écrirai_ _à m-maman_ ,” Regulus walked off to the owlery. Sirius shuddered at the mention of his mother. Suddenly, stealing from Peters pancakes lost its appeal.

The twenty second of October came round, faster than anyone expected. Regulus had finally sent his reply to his cousins and gave Sirius a sorry look at breakfast. Peter did not feel the need to guard his pancakes this morning. Sirius was caught in his own thoughts, poking hopelessly at a sausage. Remus was in no better mood, lazily swirling his finger to mix the milk in his morning tea.

Today, on the calendar, had a small inky full moon written on it. Sunday in a Scottish October was harsh, with chilly winds. They crept their way through the dorm as Remus returned to the dorm. He walked to his bed, finding James, breaking his Rosh Hashana resolution, stealing his chocolate.

“Jamie?”

“I can’t explain.”

“You’re going to hell.”

“Don’t believe in hell.”

“But I need it for tonight,” Remus sighed. James face grin dropped.

“Do you want us to,” he sat on the edge of Remus’ bed, “meet you or something, I don’t know if you know I have this cloak.”

“Sirius mentioned it,” Remus looked at his feet, his socks didn’t match, “but, I’d rather you guys not put yourselves in danger for me.”

“We are your friends,” James smiled, “we legally have to worry about you.”

“Sirius also said that,” He laughed lightly, “He’s such a character isn’t he; do you think he will ever cut his hair.”

Sirius had vowed last year to never cut his hair shorter than his chin. It currently brushed below his shoulder blades and constantly got in his eyes. Last week in Charms, Lily Evans took pity on him and gave him a mix of bobby pins and resin hair clips; then Marlene McKinnon, who’s purple hair had faded to a greyish green, offered to teach him how to French braid his hair. He began to gain a reputation among the Gryffindor girls. For some reason, it did not sit quite right with Remus.

“He has to one day,” James replied, stood up and left Remus in the dorm.

The full moon was bright tonight. It made the rain shimmer and soak the invisibility cloak. Sirius, who excelled at charms, waved a warming harm over himself, James and Peter. Travelling around the grounds was rather complicated while trying to hide three people under the cloak without being seen or falling over someone’s feet.

Sirius winced at the first howl they heard. 

Peter was snoring on James shoulder when Remus stumbled out of the willow’s roots. He looked terrible. He had a large gash across his face and his button up was bloodstained, sticking to his skin. He fell to his bruised knees, breathing shakily. James slowly helped him up, not expecting him to be that light. Sirius supported Remus’ right side as they walked slowly, under the damp cloak to the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> french isnt my forte but please enjoy my serious sirius pun 
> 
> im going to update this on the 25th of every month (or about then)


	11. eleven

“You think, after a whole year, we would know our way around,” James complained, “why don’t they give us maps.”

“What are you doing over the winter holiday?” Remus pushed himself up on his hospital bed, his eyes twitching as he moved. It was his second day there, James, Sirius and sometimes Peter would come after every class with messy notes and silly doodles, “I only ask because I was wondering if you would want to visit Wales.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. Last year he spent Christmas at Grimmauld Place, it was a grim old place to be especially during Christmas. The Ancient and Noble House of Black celebrated a serious Christmas, visiting a different estate or town house each year. It was formal rather than a time of joy, with silent meals and dull conversation. The thought of it being anything but that was unimaginable, “How would we get there?”

“The muggle way.”

If Sirius wasn’t excited enough at the mention of travelling the muggle way, his awe at the sight of the tube map, strange prices and ticket gates. Remus fiddled with his backpack, struggling with the extension charm to find some new paper notes. He handed James, Peter and Sirius their tickets, they weren’t as half as glamourous as the ones for the Hogwarts Express. Pink bits of paper with fades blue ink that opened the ticket gates to the tube with a clunk. Remus gazed at his friends with a smile as they stepped on the tube and jumped at the announcements.

“The next station is Baker Street. Change for the Bakerloo, Jubilee and Metropolitan lines and National Rail Services from Marylebone,” The announcement and sudden jolt of the train moving made Sirius look up. He had heard of Baker Street, from a book he found in a box on the street. He was nine. Some muggles were moving out and they left a box on the pavement. Sirius saw the book titled “A Study in Scarlet”, picked it up and hid it in his coat. He hid this book under his mattress and later in his Hogwarts trunk with his schoolbooks.

He rarely left Grimmauld Place. When he did, he only travelled through muggle London from enchanted phone booth to enchanted phone booth, or to Diagon Alley or the Ministry. The idea that the London that existed in this tatty old book really existed was bewildering.

“Baker Street,” he imitated the voice of the announcement, “like in A Study in Scarlet?”

“You’ve read that?” Remus asked with disbelief, “What about the others?”

“Others?”

With a series of short beeps, the doors of the train closed at Paddington station, where the boys changed to get to Cardiff. In comparison to the Hogwarts Express, the train that sat at platform two of Paddington Station earned a disappointed “Damn,” from James.

Peter and Remus fell asleep as the train pulled its way through Oxfordshire. The four thirty sky was deep purple. James looked over to Remus fondly, his head was slowly drooping on Sirius’s shoulder. His straw-coloured curls tickling Sirius slightly as they swayed with the movement of the carriage.

They passed countryside, cities, over the Severn and arrived in Cardiff, met with a relieved smile from Hope Lupin. She helped them load their bags into the boot of her yellow Dacia. Remus sat, relaxed, in the passenger seat as they drove through the Welsh countryside. James, Peter and Sirius, however, were holding onto the edge of the back seats. Only James had been in a car before but that was on the smooth motorways, not country lanes, riddled with potholes due to county council budgets. He was sat between Sirius and Peter and gripped their arms as they made a sharp turn. Remus turned back to look at his scared friends and without an ounce of sympathy, laughed.

Sirius stared at the stars slowly coming to view. He finally saw himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am trying my hardest to keep working on this but college is coming for my guts, money and spare time ;-;


End file.
